


Halloween: The Romance of Michael Myers

by Cryptid Kel (TheGreatKelthulhu)



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, F/M, Knifeplay, Smut, Stalking, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:07:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29765610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatKelthulhu/pseuds/Cryptid%20Kel
Summary: It's a classic story of boy meets girl...and killing.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Halloween: The Romance of Michael Myers

It officially began with a flower.

Iris opened her door to the cool spring air, ostensibly to collect the morning paper, but really to jolt herself awake. She had classes later.

Her academic commitments were promptly forgotten, however, when she bent down to pick up the paper...and noticed something on top of it.

Rubbing her still bleary eyes, she picked it up for closer inspection. It was a flower.  
An _iris_.  


Someone had left a very appropriate gift for her.  
The question was...who?  


Iris held her floral counterpart closer to her face, examining it closely, as though there'd be any clue of whoever left it.

There _was_.

Gently splotted on the beautiful purple petals...were little flecks of blood.

Something itched at the back of her mind, as she returned to her original task of retrieving the newspaper. She gave it a cursory once-over, then her eyes darted back up to the headline on the front page.

>   
>  _"Haddonfield 'Boogeyman' strikes again. Four people killed in a brutal home invasion, serial killer Michael Myers suspected."_  
> 

The thing itching in the back of her mind suddenly shot to the front.

A shelved memory came flooding back in vivid detail, from all those months ago.

* * *

She'd picked out a lovely sexy witch costume, like Samantha from Bewitched, but sluttier. Did her face up a bit. Worn practical but flattering shoes.

And then she'd left the house. After dark. _On Halloween_. In Haddonfield.  
Against police recommendations, against her own nervousness... against whatever better judgement she should (but didn't) have had.  


She'd roamed around town for a while, keeping an eye out for any Boogeyman who may cross her path.

That _was_ what she'd come out there for, after all.

She had been a fair bit away from her house, and closer to the graveyard when she'd heard the screaming.  
People in fear. In pain. In _trouble_.  


She'd quickened her pace, heart thudding in her chest as she made her way in the direction of the screams.

A few houses up, there had been a frightened young woman in a bee costume, bolting from the front door to the lawn.  
She hadn't made it very far, though. A hand had reached out, grabbed her by her wings, and dragged her back inside.  


Iris had jogged up to the house, as quietly and inconspicuously as possible, and had peeked inside.

She'd let out a tiny gasp at what she'd seen.

A man—over six feet tall, she'd noted—had been brutally stabbing the bee girl with a large kitchen knife in the front hall.

Iris had watched silently in morbid fascination as the man finished his job, stabbing the girl for the last time, her screams quieted into quickly fading into burbling.  
The man had stood there for a moment, bloody knife in hand, and had appeared to be admiring his work.  
  
Then he'd turned around.  


Iris had let out another, slightly louder gasp. Her hand had flown up to her lips in an "oh my!" gesture.

The man who had stood before her, the killer...had been none other than Michael Myers himself. Bloody knife and coveralls, expressionless white mask, knife dripping blood.

It'd been **him** , alright, and Iris couldn't fight the flip-flops her stomach had been doing.

Michael had stood before her, regarding her for a moment, then had used her awestruck stillness as a solid opportunity to strike.

He'd grabbed her by the throat, pinned her to the wall, and had begun choking her.

Iris had been in total shock when the Shape of Haddonfield had lunged at her and wrapped strong hands around her throat.  
She'd been unable to believe that the real Michael Myers was squeezing her neck. Was _touching_ her.  


She'd noted, as the oxygen was leaving her body, that his hands were rough, but not uncomfortably so.  
What _had_ been uncomfortable, however, was that he was slowly killing her. She hadn't wanted their encounter to end so soon, especially as his hands on her skin had awakened something in her.  
  
Something that had to be sated.  


Close to passing out, Iris had managed to groan out two words to her would-be killer.

_"Harder, daddy."_

The Shape had paused his strangling of her, and simply stared at her for a long moment. Though the mask had concealed his face well, she had been able to notice a glint of confusion in his eyes. And, as she'd looked down, a tent in the lower region of his coveralls.

_Meow~_

Michael had suddenly released his prey, and she slunk to the floor, held her throat and gasped for breath.

As Michael had continued staring down at her, head cocked to the side (as if contemplating what to do with her), Iris had taken that time to let her eyes roam over him.

He was tall. _Quite_ tall. With strong, powerful, veiny hands. Even in the coveralls, he had cut a strong-looking figure, unable to _completely_ hide his musculature. The bulge at his groin had seemed fairly big. His breaths had been steady and loud.

Iris had been jolted out of her lustful sizing up of the Shape, when he'd grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up to her feet.

He'd held a sash in his hands—from one of his victims' pirate costume, she'd noticed— and turned her around and tied her hands behind her back.  
Then he'd clamped a large, rough hand over her mouth, marched her outside to one of the cars in the driveway, and opened the trunk, shoving her in.  
  
He'd slammed the top down, got in the driver's seat, started the car with no-doubt pilfered and bloody keys, and backed out of the driveway.  


Iris had been an odd combination of calm and giddy during the drive. Where was taking her? What would he do to her once there? He hadn't seemed like he wanted to kill her anymore, so he probably had another use for her.

Her suspicions had been confirmed when the car came to a stop, the trunk popped open, and Michael had lifted her bodily out of the trunk and onto the ground, then clamped a hand over her mouth once again.

She'd noticed they were in the town's park, and that he was leading her to the edge of it, where it gave way to the woods.

He'd stopped, forced her down on the ground, face up, and knelt over her, still-bloody knife in hand.

He'd slowly traced the point of it across her neck, down her collarbone...and to the waistband of her underwear when he'd pushed her dress up to her hips.  
He'd slid the knife past the waistband, and cut the offending garment away in one fluid motion. Then he'd lowered the knife, and seemed to take in the sight of her lower half bared to him.  


This had been very exciting for Iris. He'd spared her life, taken her to a private location, cut away her panties, and then stared at her like a lion stares at its prey.  
The flood of nerves, excitement and arousal had had her near delirious, and she could feel her pussy get wetter and wetter in anticipation.  


Finally, Michael had apparently had enough looking, and had begun touching. His thumbs had stroked her thighs as the rest of his hands had pried her legs apart. He had adjusted his position to kneel between her legs, and then tugged at the zipper of his coveralls.

Iris had watched closely as Michael had revealed a (somewhat tight) black t-shirt beneath his coveralls...and his big, throbbing cock.  
Iris had bit her lip when saw that thing. It was _big_. Long and thick, simultaneously exciting and intimidating. The Boogeyman was _packing_.  


Said Boogeyman had stroked his cock a bit before lining himself up with her entrance. Iris had moaned when she felt his tip push past her folds, and had gasped when he'd pushed all the way inside her.

She'd barely had time to adjust when he'd pulled most of the way out, then pushed back in again. Iris's eyelids had fluttered when he'd settled into a consistent pace, filling her needy pussy.  
She'd panted and moaned as Michael thrust repeatedly into her, the fabric of his coveralls rubbed against her bared skin, barely believing that it was actually happening.  


_Michael Myers was fucking her._

And fucking her _good_.

She'd felt so full...it was _so_ good. So _fucking_ good. Overwhelmingly good.  
"Mmmichael…" she'd let out his name in a soft moan, toes curling in overwhelming delight.  


This had seemed to have a pleasurable affect on him, as he had immediately begun to thrust harder and faster, breaths no longer steady.

Iris hadn't been able to stop herself from letting out estatic moans, groans, gasps and whines when Michael sat up and pulled her ankles up to his shoulder, fucking her at a new angle. His cock had begun to rub against her g-spot, and it hadn't taken much longer before she was cumming.  
The building pressure inside her had exploded into absolute ecstasy, and she had let out a cry that had been promptly muffled by Michaels large hand over her mouth, which had only added to the experience.  


Iris's orgasm had summoned Michael's, and he'd let out a few grunts as his cock twitched inside her, filling her with his cum.  
He'd continued to hold her there for a minute, before he pulled out, dropped her legs, and zipped up his coveralls.  


Iris had been panting and gasping, her head swam, she tingled all over.  
Her already jackhammering heart had beat even faster when she saw him pick up his knife again. He'd grabbed her by the throat once more, pulled her up in a sitting position, then reached behind her…  


And he'd proceeded to free her wrists from their bonds, the knife easily sliced the sash.

Michael had stared down at her for a brief moment, then had promptly turned and made his way out of the park.

Iris had sat up, a little dizzy, and attempted to process what had just happened.

Michael Myers, the Boogeyman himself, _had just fucked her senseless_.

* * *

Iris smiled to herself as she relived that lovely memory, lost in thought for a bit until she glanced back down at the flower in her hand.

The flower. An iris. Clearly, he knew her name, meaning that he must have been stalking her for God knows how long, without her realizing.

_He knew her name_.

He remembered her after all. She figured he'd had his fun with her and that would be that. But apparently not.

Her smile growing larger, Iris sniffed the flower again and went back inside.

"Guess he couldn't forget good pussy."


End file.
